Within this solitude, I have grown in ways I never knew possible. I have delved deeper into the caverns of each chamber of this sacred abode we call the Heart, and discovered there is no end.. It is a perpetually incessant journey.

I continue to swim, propelled through this bloodstream, ~ this heart’s dream.. my tears becoming one with the ocean within the vessel that carries me forth.

Guided by a gentle hand, the inward immersion continues.. It is dark.. warm.. it envelopes me. I cannot see .. rather I feel, moving by the sight of faith.

There is safety in this sanctuary, the guiding hand a cord, the darkness a soothing, protective womb.

I inhale deeply — as I hear the voice whisper: everything is allegory pain is a sculptor (it keeps us upright) love is a painter (his brush divinely guided) lust is a cello… (but what good is an instrument without a song to sing?)

and I am ecstatically transported to Tagore:

“I have spent my days stringing and unstringing my instrument

while the song I came to sing remains unsung.”

I exhale cathartically — Releasing..

It seems an eternity between the inhale ~ and the exhale.. a lifetime between each breath.